During the first week of school in 2014, I (Brent) passed one of my students between classes and simply said, “Hey, Kyle**.” He had been in my class for a few days so I didn’t have to dig deep to find a name. All I did was say “hey.” No effort required, right? Within 24 hours, I had the following email from his mom in my inbox:​

Every day when we walk into the four walls of our schools we’re surrounded by others. By other students, parents, colleagues, and more. Many people look at education and feel that the sole purpose of it is to educate children. Those of us who are in this profession, however, know that our job is so much more. One of the most important aspects of an educator is that ability to connect. To build those relationships. To remind another student (or colleague) of their worth, genius, and potential.

As educators, even we sometimes lose sight. We get bogged down by the expectations and check-lists of things we have to complete. Testing season stresses us out. Parent conversations don’t always go as we hoped. Our students behave in ways unexpected. Other educators (or administrators) say or do things that make us feel inferior.

We get beaten down. And we forget. We forget that our words change lives. Our impact isn’t momentary, rather it can be felt for years to come.

Our students come to us with experiences that many times we have no knowledge of. Drugs, physical/emotional/sexual abuse, abandonment, poverty, extreme expectations, and more. Yet they show up every day and are expected to put forth 100% into their education. As educators, our jobs as academic instructors are a waste of our time if we don’t also focus on the emotional side of our kiddos.

That simple act of greeting your students at the door by name and giving them a high-five, fist bump, or hand shake can help us connect to them. The quick walk through the hallways visiting with students between classes. The five minute visit to lunch when we know we have work to do. The ten seconds it takes to see a student in the hall and tell them “good morning, ______.” The ability to act like a child sometimes and play with them at recess or get on the floor and work.

There are even moments when a child, on occasion, acts out, and we have to take the time to realize that we don’t necessarily have to jump straight to consequences. Sometimes, all it takes is simple conversation about how much we care about them and then giving them the resources they may lack in understanding how to deal with the situation.

Now, let’s take this idea of knowing our students and flip it. It’s crucial that we not only know and acknowledge our students, but that we allow them to know us as well. We need to open our world to them. Talk about family. Share stories about things we enjoy doing.

I (Brent) place a lot of value on frequenting the businesses and restaurants that my students and their families do. Seeing students and their families outside of school gives me another connecting point for a short convo when I see them at school. “Hey! How was your Lupe Tortilla last night?” Because we Houstonians all know that Lupe Tortilla is where it’s at when it comes to Tex-Mex (even though Todd will argue that Chuy’s is still the best Tex-Mex)

I (Todd) have always tried to attend their extracurricular activities. It makes a world of difference to a kiddo when you show up at something of theirs outside of school hours. Plus it proves that you don’t actually spend every waking moment at the school.

The bottom line is this: children can tell immediately when you care about them. When you genuinely care. When we take time to know our students and allow ourselves to be known, we build healthy, authentic, meaningful relationships that can revolutionize our campus.

It only takes a single moment. That instant that will stick with someone for the rest of their life. We all leave a mark on our students. Sometimes good, sometimes not as great as we would have hoped. What mark are you leaving?

**The name in the story was changed for the purpose of protecting the identity of the student.